Tirren frantically ran to the front of the inn, but he found only the front door swinging wide on its hinges. The front desk attendant was nowhere to be seen. Tirren ran to the door, and looked out. The street seemed oddly unbothered. People walked along the street. Tirren began stepping across the threshold, but his mind quickly raced back to his master’s words.

  Seidren beneath Gravel don’t walk unaccompanied through the streets. Tirren needed a babysitter. He stepped back and began pacing back and forth in the lobby of the Inn, the daylight streaming through the door seeming to mock him. He walked to the threshold again, and stopped. He stood there in the door for several long seconds, until the dark eyes of a passing Seidren fell over him and he retreated to his room.

  When Jef returned, it was with his usual bouncy air of indifference and spunk. He walked in and smiled at Tirren, who was sitting in meditative form with a grimace on his face. As soon as he heard the door, Tirren sprang to his feet and told his master about Severin’s abduction.

  Jefremov, ever the one who smiled in the face of overwhelming odds, looked on as he heard about the abduction. He simply smiled.

  “Tirren. Our enemy is one step ahead of me once again. I must admit that is somewhat of a strange position. Tell me what you think we should do.”

  “We’ve got to find him. Let’s go now. We can track them and take him back.”

  “Tirren, let me be frank. You can’t walk out the door without me. If I take you with me, you will be nothing but a liability, If I leave you here, you are similarly a liability. I have been taking it easy on you, spending a fortune to let you fight and lose to sects around the city. I need to see a return on my investment. How is your progression coming?”

  Tirren was astounded that Jefremov wanted to have this conversation now. “Can’t we have this conversation later? Sev needs us.”

  “Severin is the most ably gifted and well prepared Stem Seidren I’ve ever met. He has studied and understands Mana. He has seen and understood hardship that has taught him much. He knows to keep his head down. He also knows, as should you, that Seidren are extremely prideful, and need to be seen as keeping up with the highest standard of honor.”

  “You’d bet his life on the honor of thieves?” Tirren asked desperately.

  “Yes. So long as they were Seidren. Unless provoked, a greater Seidren should not strike a lesser Seidren, for fear of reprisal, and of honor. I will publish a notice in Najer, including the note that was left. The Crystalline Sect has something called a constructive bailment of our Severin. With the eyes of the cities’ Seidren on them, they must not let him perish. He may endure much, but they may not seriously maim, or allow for his death. Unless Severin tries to escape, he is safe as a bird in a cage. I have instructed him, and he knows the paths he must take to progress. That is more than I can say for you.”

  Tirren’s desperation was quickly turning to anger. “Any secret you’ve taught Severin won’t be any good to him dead. I’ve been your disciple for four months too, and I haven’t progressed much at all.”

  “You have the ring of Ivermarktarius on your finger! A super ancient being with knowledge to rival that of the Runelord! With that knowledge you could have long ago been into the stone arc, and pushed into the mineral arc.”

  “You … know about that?” Tirren asked, the wind of his anger failing under the shock of information. “ This ring isn’t that great. I think you’ve overstated its value. There’s no way to know if the ring could help me.”

  “Oh but I do, my angry disciple. I meant to tell you this once you were ready to contribute, but I tell you now. The leader of the Crystalline Frost sect is none other than Tyladriel. He uses this name openly, thinking that none would recognize him. Ask your genie. Ask him if he knows the identity of our query.”

  Tirren turned around to not face his master, and murmured under his breath. “Ivarmarktarius, wake. Do you know anybody named Tyladriel?” There was an unusual pause, as the demon considered his words, which was a frighteningly rare thing for him to do.

  “Tyladriel is one of the titles of a demon king. You should not speak it lightly.” Tirren was shocked at the level voice the demon used, as opposed to his usual psychic demonic shouting.

  “He’s lots less powerful than you, right?” Tirren said to soothe the demon’s ego.

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  “We were… equals … of a sort.” That admission alone was enough to throw Tirren into a panic. Tirren didn’t understand the hierarchy of the fell, but he had gathered tidbits from the comments that he gleaned from Ivarmarktarius. Ivarmarktarius had never conceded that there were beings which might rival itself. Realization hit Tirren like a hammer and his eyes widened.

  “You’ve been searching for one of the fell lords, who has taken over a Seidren’s body, and not in the temporary way like me, but for good?”

  “Yes, disciple. What else?”

  “The Seidren who attacked us in Serventis were likely sent by him to recover my ring.”

  “Yes disciple. I fear that the genie was psychically broadcasting his location while I was away.”

  “They took Severin.” Tirren said again, redundantly.

  “Yes, Tirren. And, as ever, if you ever want to do something about it, you need power. Power is the only language universally understood. You’re not safe at home where the city guard is good, and the laws just. You are in Najer, where might is right. Your progression has stopped. Typically, a Seidren in your position would be encouraged to take the aspect of his clan or sect. You don’t have that. You need to find your own aspect. You can try and take the sunshine aspect, like me, but I won’t give it to you. You will need to find it yourself.”

  Tirren wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he had tried several times in secret to take in sunlight. He knew it wasn’t his aspect.

  “Who are you, Tirren Stjern?” Jefremov said forcefully, as he took a step towards him.

  “You need insight into what guides your journey as Seidren. How do you approach problems? Do you flow around barriers in your path like water? Do you slowly destroy them with the slow power of growth mana?”

  “I am Tirren Stjern of Serventis. I muddled through the organic stages of Seidren with little to no magical help. I was born in the land of peace and plenty. I began fighting at a local dojo four years ago, and found that I was good at it. I got so good at fighting that I progressed as Seidren through sheer force of will.

  I found the ring of Ivarmarktarius, a genie, a supposed fountain of knowledge, but even then, I was forced to fight for every scrap of knowledge. I am a fighter. I fight!”

  Mana was swirling inside of Tirren, and he felt something crucial being established. Tirren’s awareness of mana aspects was growing, and he felt pressure behind his heart.

  Tirren slammed his fist into his palm, and the show of force manifested as force aspect mana in his manasight. He inhaled through his mana channels, and the force aspect came towards him haltingly, as if finding resistance. Tirren began fighting to bring it inside him. He wanted it with all of his willpower. He began wrestling the aspect towards his mana well. As he did, the aspect began moving towards him at a snail’s pace, and he fought it until a hand rested on his shoulder.

  “Tirren, you are indeed a fighter. You’ve found an aspect. The aspect of force. I need you to look higher. You could settle for this aspect, but I advise you against it. The spiritual pressure in the room of an impending progression faded away, and Tirren was left puzzled. “What?! You think I should stop?”

  “You’ve got the most of it, we just need to complete your understanding of your aspects before we let you advance. Work on suffusing your mana into your body some more, and we can come back to this.” As Jefremov walked away. “Well done, we’ll get you progressed in no time, I’m sure!”

  Jefremov walked away, aloof and carefree, after telling him he was aware that Severin was captive to one of the leaders of hell.

  “Ivarmarktarius, tell me. If you took over my body and formed a Seidren sect, would you care about the rules of honor?”

  RULES OF HONOR ARE NOTHING MORE THAN FEAR. SEIDREN DARE NOT KILL THOSE AT LOWER LEVELS THAN THEMSELVES BECAUSE THEY FEAR REPRISAL. IN THE REAL WORLD, THESE RULES APPLY SO LONG AS THE SEIDREN ARE BACKED BY EQUAL POWERS.

  IF TWO ONYX SEIDREN FROM CASTELLANIC MET A WANDERING SAND SEIDREN FROM DIRETHOS, THE RULES OF HONOR WOULD DICTATE THAT THEY NOT ATTACK HIM AND TAKE ANY MAGICAL TREASURE HE HAD. BUT IF THEY DISCOVERED THAT HE BELONGED TO NO SECT, THEY WOULD NOT FEAR REPRISAL.

  IF YOUR MASTER JEFREMOV DEVRIUS ATTACKED A GROUP OF GRAVEL SEIDREN, HE WOULD HAVE NEED TO FEAR THAT A DIAMOND SEIDREN WOULD FIND HIM AND ATTACK HIM. IT IS AN UNEASY BALANCE MISTAKENLY CALLED HONOR.

  “Would you spare him, genie?”

  PROBABLY NOT, HE’S PRETTY WORTHLESS AND I WOULD BE HARD PRESSED TO UNDERSTAND HOW ANY STRONG SEIDREN WOULD CARE FOR ONE SO UNPROGRESSED AS HIM.

  Tirren nodded. He had suspected as much.

  Later that night. Tirren looked down at his ring. He grabbed it firmly and yanked. It came off with no resistance whatsoever. Tirren was surprised, but glad. He took his ring and left it on top of a note, explaining to Jefremov his resolution.

  Dear Jef,

  I am going to find Severin. He is in the hands of demons, and he needs us. You think the rules of honor will save him, but I won't leave my friend and elder disciple to the hands of chance, fate, or honor.

  I’ll be back before you know it, with Severin. You said that might was right, and power is the only language understood. I'll tell you right now. Friendship, courage and loyalty are not dead, and they will carry me when my power doesn’t. Please keep this for me.

  Tirren Stjern.